


And You Drank

by BecauseFanfictionThough



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse world, Drinking, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Sweet Dean, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:17:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseFanfictionThough/pseuds/BecauseFanfictionThough
Summary: Freshly through the rift from Apocalypse World you should be overjoyed, but you're not. You're alone.





	And You Drank

The world seemed brighter on this side of the rift. Everything just seemed more vibrant than in your world, that’s the first thing that you noticed. As families and friends all regrouped with one another on the other side, you sought out somewhere to sit down and try to take everything in. You didn’t have anyone. You hadn’t made any friends at the camp in what Mary and Jack had dubbed “Apocalypse World” and any family you’d had were long dead.

You headed for the table furthest form the rift which people were still stumbling out of and took a seat at it. You were still dizzy from passing through to a new universe, but you also couldn’t hold back the wave of relief that was washing over you. You had made it. You had all made it out of the godforsaken place. You were finally safe from the angels. Unlike most of the others, you had no intentions of returning to Apocalypse world. There was nothing there for you. You weren’t a good fighter. If it weren’t for Bobby you’d be dead because, honestly, every time you saw an angel you froze. They absolutely fucking terrified you.

But what happened now? There was no way that everybody would fit inside the building you had come out inside of. Sure, it looked big, but big enough for twenty-five people? Not likely. Maybe you should have just let the angels kill you. The idea of having to actually start up a real life again was terrible, especially because with your parents, your older brother, and your boyfriend all dead you had nobody to begin that life with. Back before the Apocalypse you’d hardly been brave enough to pick up the phone and make dentist appointments for yourself. Now you were supposed to pull yourself together enough to start an entirely new life in an entirely new universe? This was insanity.

“Hey, you okay there?” a deep voice said from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts and causing you to jump.

Turning, you were met with a pair of green eyes, slightly squinted and staring back at you. There was concern written on this man’s face and you mentally scrambled to come up with his name. You’d heard it before. You’d heard people talk about this man. His brother was named Sam and he was…Duke? Dane?

“Drew. Hey, I’m fine,” you fixed a smile on your lips but your cheeks felt heavy. You weren’t really in a smiling mood.

“Uh, Dean actually,” he corrected you with a small smile, his face softening as your cheeks heated up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. Thank you, a ton. I owe you guys my life,” you rambled on.

Dean’s smile grew just a bit before he looked over at the groups of other people huddled together, most to scared to walk near where the rift had been even though it had disappeared, as if they were afraid they might slip back to the other world even without it. It suddenly clicked in your brain: he must have noticed that you were alone. Your heartrate picked up and you bit down on your lip. Was that suspicious? Did he think there was something wrong with you?

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a beer,” Dean said to you. He raised his voice and turned towards the crowd, “Hey! Anyone else here that could use a beer?” A cheer rose up and a look of triumph cast over his face. “Yo Sammy, Mom, beer-fun?

“Shouldn’t we wash up first?” Sam stepped forward from where he had been talking with Bobby, Mary, and Jack.

“You can, I’m goin’ to get beer,” Dean replied with a shrug before looking back at you. “You coming?”

“Shouldn’t she at least wash up first?” Sam interjected before you could speak.

You looked down at your shirt, once white but now stained gray and your ripped jeans, speckled with drying mud. Suddenly you were self-conscious. You didn’t even want to imagine what you’re face looked like. Though, even if you did shower, you’d have to put your dirty clothes right back on.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go. I’m…kind of dirty,” you said, motioning to your clothes.

That’s when Mary spoke up, crossing to you and looking at you as if assessing your body. She gave a soft smile before her eyes raised up to meet your eyes. She held out a hand to you. “Come on, you can borrow something of mine,” she offered.

Nodding your head, you took Mary’s hand and let her lead you through the nearby doorway.

“Okay, fine,” Dean huffed, lowering himself into the chair you had just been seated in. “Guess we’ll wait.”

“I’ll leave now to go grab some pizzas,” you heard Sam offer before you were led through a kitchen and then an open, arched doorway and into a hall.

Inside what was apparently Mary’s bedroom, she dug through her drawers until she pulled out a crocheted cardigan and a tank top. When you told her your pants size she frowned a bit while rifling through her things before pulling out a pair of leggings. After that you were out the door, being led down the hall once again until you reached a bathroom.

In the shower, after Mary had left after you assured her you could find your way back to the main room, you marveled at how wonderful it felt to have hot water pouring down your naked body. You’d been bathing in cold river water for years, you’d forgotten what it even felt like to have warm dripping down your skin. You combed out your hair as best as you could with your fingers, although there were some knots so thickly tied together that it felt like you might need scissors to get them out. You knew that others would want to clean up and you didn’t know how much hot water this place had to spare, so you worked quickly, scraping away the grime from your skin layer by layer until the water falling off of you finally ran clear.

Just as you turned off the water you heard a sharp rapping of knuckles against the bathroom door.

“You done yet?” Dean’s voice carried to you and you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips.

“Almost!” you called back.

“Alright, hurry it up. I’m too sober to have just saved a camp of refugees from an archangel.”

“Well if you want me to have clothes on when we leave you’ll just have to wait a second!”

You could hear his soft chuckle from through the wood. “Alright, you win. Hurry it up.”

Softly you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t often that people actually sought you out to speak to simply be around you. This world was already so much different from your own, and you liked it.

Two hours later you were sitting in a chair next to Dean, a beer in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other, laughing at some snark comment Bobby had made from across the table. Looking to your right, through the doorway you watched as a girl named Alice blatantly flirted with a guy named Cole. Cole was simply laughing off her advances because she was so drunk she could hardly hold herself upright. Most of the people from Apocalypse world didn’t have an extremely high tolerance for alcohol. Nobody wanted to be shitfaced if an angel attack happened in the middle of the night. It was nice to see everyone finally able to breathe again—to let loose and act carefree.

“What a gentleman,” Dean snickered, following your gaze as Cole led Alice back into the main room and over to a chair.

“He is,” you defended. “What, you’d just take advantage of her?”

“No, no,” he leaned forwards, elbows on his knees and beer bottle held by the neck. “But when she doesn’t pay any attention to him in the morning I bet he’ll regret it.”

“Why wouldn’t she pay attention to him? He’s being really sweet right now.”

“I’m not really one for sweet. I prefer a crazy drunken night and a phone number on my bedside table when I wake up.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing at Dean. “Well, some people are looking for an actual connection.”

“I’ve had actual connections!”

“At parties?”

“At lots of parties.”

“I doubt it.”

“And why’s that?”

With each short sentence the two of you had drawn closer and closer to one another, you facing Dean and mirroring his sitting position. There was only a few inches between your faced now. You could practically feel his breath on your lips and as much as the slightly dizzy feeling in your head and your alcohol-warmed chest wanted you to close the distance, thoughts of your ex flooded your mind suddenly. It felt wrong. Conner wouldn’t have liked it, you knew that much.

“I doubt that anyone has ever made a legitimate love connection between keg-stands,” you shrugged your shoulders while leaning back in your seat, putting some distance between the two of you. You took a long gulp from your bottle, draining it. Dean took that as his cue, pulling your empty beer from your hands and crossing to the end of the table to get you a new one.

“You better watch yourself, Y/N,” Bobby spoke up from across the table.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Watch yourself. That boy is giving you ‘The Eyes’,” Bobby warned.

“The eyes?” tilting your head to the side, you chuckled.

“Don’t be an idjit. You know what I’m saying.” Bobby had always been no-nonsense. There was no fooling him. You scorned the fluttering in your stomach that was starting up.

Conner. Conner. Conner. Just keep your mind on Conner.

As if reading your mind, Bobby went on, “I’m not sayin’ it’s bad. I’m just sayin’, he don’t seem like the type to cradle your feelings, and I know you’re still achin’ over that boy of yours.”

“What boy of yours?” Dean cut into the conversation, retaking his seat and setting a fresh beer on the table in front of you.

You bit your lip. Your good time was suddenly crashing in around you. You picked up your new beer and took another long drink instead of answering. You could hear the scowl in Bobby’s voice as he sighed and then spoke for you.

“Y/N here had herself a guy back in our world. Been over a year now since he got captured. Never gave us up though, bless him. Brave boy, Conner. Really brave. Kind of reminded me of you and your brother—pissy and grouchy, but a big soft spot for humanity.”

“Hm,” the corners of Dean’s mouth turned down briefly as his eyebrows were raised. “I wouldn’t say I’m ‘pissy’. I’m just…stoic.”

“Huh! Yeah, that’s it.” Bobby laughed before pushing back his chair and walking away to talk to Mary.

A silence settled between you and Dean and you wanted nothing more than to end it but you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out what to say. So you didn’t say anything. You drank.

And you drank.

And then you went and got another new beer.

And you drank.

And then you went and got another.

And you drank.

“You okay?” Dean asked you when you returned with your tenth beer of the night. To say you were feeling it would be an understatement.

You forced a smile. “Peachy,” you said in a trembling voice with a hint of slur in it. “Don’t know what world I’m in. Don’t know what I’m going to do with my life now. Don’t know where I’m going to live, or how anything works in this place. Don’t know how the fuck I’m going to manage without my parents…” tears pricked at your eyes “…without Conner. Don’t even know if he’s really dead.”

“You don’t?” Dean set down his beer and leaned forward.

“I mean, I know…but I don’t know…ya know?”

“Kind of, actually, yeah.”

“I know that the angels killed him when they captured him. That’s what they do. But I didn’t get to see it. I didn’t get a letter in the mail confirming it or some shit. One day he was just gone, and I had to assume he was…gone.” Tears spilled down your cheeks without your permission and you wiped them away, practically slapping yourself in the face with how rough your actions were.

Dean stared at you for a long moment, his hard green eyes suddenly softening. He stood, extending a hand towards you. After a moment of hesitation you took his hand and he led you out of the room. You could practically feel the other’s eyes on you.

“Dean?” Sam called after the two of you and when you didn’t stop he called a bit more urgently, “Dean!”

“Relax, Sammy,” Dean called back. It didn’t look good—him disappearing towards the bedrooms with an overly-inebriated refugee. It looked like him taking advantage of you, but Dean didn’t seem to care, he simply guided you through the kitchen, through the arched doorway, and to a door identical to the one that Mary had led you to earlier.

Inside, he shut the door behind you and you crossed to the bed, still silently crying.

“You know why I asked you to come with me earlier?” Dean spoke suddenly? You looked up to him, vision blurry and blinking away tears. “Whole room full of people—people who’d just escaped a living hell—and you still looked lonely, and sad.”

“Cool, I am a charity case. Thank you, kind sir, for your…kind words.” You gave a sarcastic cackle and stood up, starting towards the door.

Dean caught you by the arm, pulling you to a stop. You turned your head to look at him and immediately regretted it when the butterflies in your stomach started up again—or maybe the sudden stop just made you nauseous. Even when you turned your eyes to the side, trying to escape his stare, he didn’t move. He simply looked at you. Examined your face.

“You’re not alone, you know? Sam, and Mary, and Jack and I we didn’t rescue you guys just to throw you out loose into the world and tell you ‘good luck’. We’re here to help you. That’s all we want. I—”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted Dean, he sighed, tossing his head back, and called for whoever it was to come in. The door creaked open and outside of it stood Jack.

“Hello,” he greeted the two of you.

“What, Jack?” Dean asked with annoyance.

“I’ve never danced before,” Jack responded.

You and Dean look at one another, exchanging a confused glance before looking back at Jack.

“Kid, what the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked, exasperated.

“I’ve never danced before. Bobby said that two of you were doing a…’horizontal tango’. And a tango is a kind of dance, correct?”

“Oh my god,” your face heated up in an instant and Jack sensed the uncomfortable shift in the atmosphere.

“That…means something other than I thought, doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Yes,” Dean said, stepping towards the door and grabbing onto the knob. “Yes it does. Go tell Bobby to bite me.” He slammed the door shut and, as an afterthought shouted through it, “And tell them all we’re not having sex!” Turning back towards you he sighed and crossed back to where you stood, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re safe here. If you don’t feel comfortable going out into the world yet, you don’t have to. I know I flirt a lot, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Just say the word. I’m here to help.”

You looked down to where his hand met your body and stared at it. Part of you longed for him to go away and part of you longed for him to pull you closer.

“Can I sleep somewhere? I’m tired.”

Dean gave a soft smile and nodded, motioning towards his bed. “It’s all yours.”

You thanked him and crossed to the bed, pulling off your cardigan and then climbing underneath the covers. Once you were settled, Dean crossed to the door. Just as he was about to open it, you spoke.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you…could you stay in here with me?”

A moment of silence passed.

“Yeah,” he responded. “Yeah, I can do that.”


End file.
